Duet
by Avalon3
Summary: Buffy and Spike have a conversation


DUET  
by Avalon (avalon99@telusplanet.net)  
http://members.dencity.com/avalon_online  
S/B, PG, Part 1/1  
  
**********************************************************  
  
Well, I here's my contribution to the post-"Crush" fanfic  
feeding frenzy. I'm actually one of those who didn't have  
a problem with most of it (well, Dru was way too sane and  
coherent, and David Fury obviously can't write her worth  
beans, but other than that...)  
  
I actually found the infamous David Fury interview much  
more upsetting. So I wrote this in an effort to counter  
all of Fury's so-called arguments as to why Buffy and Spike  
could never be together. Imagine my surprise when I  
actually came up with one I couldn't counter...  
  
Oh, and it's heavy on the dialogue, light on the action.   
Just so you know.  
  
SUMMARY: Buffy and Spike have a conversation in the  
cemetery.  
  
SPOILERS: Season 5, up to and including "Crush".   
  
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: To my beta reader Linda, who, between  
bouts of "Crush"-induced manically-depressed spoiler highs,  
even managed to get a little Beta reading in.  
  
DISCLAIMER: They're not mine. I treat my toys much better  
than that.  
  
**********************************************************  
  
DUET  
  
She was dancing again, weaving a trail of destruction and  
dust across the cemetery. But not with him. Never with  
him.  
  
Spike lit another cigarette and leaned back against the  
tombstone, watching. Three vamps. One Slayer. No  
contest. And then it was over, all too soon. Buffy came  
to a halt, her chest heaving, pivoting rapidly as she  
looked around for more vampires to kill. But there was  
nothing. Only him. And he wasn't worth killing,  
apparently.  
  
He knew the exact moment she spotted him, saw the way her  
eyes narrowed and her body stiffened.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Her voice was frosty.  
  
"I live here."  
  
Buffy folded her arms. "Well, go away."  
  
Spike smiled bitterly then knocked some ash off the end of  
his cigarette against the tombstone.   
  
"I was here first. You go away."  
  
A pause while she glared at him then she abruptly spun on  
her heel and began to stalk away. Spike debated for a long  
moment, then sighed. In for a penny, in for a pound,  
right?  
  
"Buffy," he said clearly, knowing she was still within  
earshot. "You can't keep running away from this."  
  
"I'm not running away. And there is no 'this'."  
  
"I love you."  
  
She froze, not turning. "You don't know what love is."  
  
"Don't I? You're wrong on that one, Slayer. I know  
passion and lust, and I know love. And I know the  
difference between them. Do you?"  
  
This time she did turn back. "Spike--" she began.  
  
He ignored her, taking in a long draught of smoke before  
looking up and speaking to the night sky, almost as if she  
wasn't there.   
  
"Passion is fire and heat and now," he said calmly. "But  
love, real love -- it's forever. It doesn't die, and it  
doesn't stop. Not ever. It's knowing that you'd give your  
life in an instant, in a heartbeat, for the one you love.   
You wouldn't even have to think about it, wouldn't have to  
weigh the decision, you'd just do it. Love is making  
sacrifices and not even minding. Love is hurting when they  
hurt, and feeling good just because they smile. Believe  
me, I do know what love is."  
  
"You don't love me that way."  
  
"Maybe not. But I think I might be getting there."  
  
He could almost sense the waves of disbelief and outrage  
coming from the Slayer. Her fists clenched and she took a  
step toward him.   
  
"You chained me up because you 'loved' me!" she snarled.   
"That's not love, Spike. It's twisted and perverted  
and..."  
  
"I never said you don't hurt the one you love. You -- god,  
now I sound like a bloody country song now. Someone just  
kill me now."  
  
"Sure. No problem."  
  
"Very Funny. Where was I? Oh yeah - the Buffy bondage.   
Gotta admit, that was a mistake. But cut me some slack,  
Slayer. 120 years with Drusilla didn't exactly prepare me  
for a relationship that *didn't* involve chains. And  
torture. Besides..."  
  
She shook her head. "Really, really don't want to hear  
this..."  
  
He blew a gust of smoke into the night air. "Tough.   
'Cause you're condemning me without even hearing my side of  
things. Which is why I did it, by the way. Think you'd  
ever have listened to me if I hadn't chained you up?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"You see my point then."  
  
Buffy folded her arms. "No. You don't have a point.   
You're pointless, Spike -- pun definitely not intended.   
You're a vampire, I'm the Slayer. You can't be in love  
with me."  
  
His smile returned, briefly. "Can't use that argument,  
Slayer. You've been there, done him."  
  
"Angel was different. He has a soul. He's good."  
  
"And I don't so I'm automatically bad, is that it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The vampire laughed, short and sharp.   
  
"Hate to break this to you, pet, but there's a log of  
humans out there with souls who are a hell of a lot more  
evil than I ever managed to be. Do you even read the  
newspapers? But hey, let's just keep the serial killers  
and rapists out of the argument and focus on lover boy for  
a minute, shall we?"  
  
"No, let's not." She turned again, as if to go, but his  
next words stopped her.  
  
"Do you know what your boy is up to in L.A. these days?   
Setting people on fire, walking away while Darla and Dru  
killed a roomful of lawyers. People that begged him for  
their lives. And he just walked away."   
  
Buffy stared back at him, shock written on her face.  
  
"I don't believe you."  
  
"It's true. Dru told me."  
  
"Yeah, like I'd believe anything Fruitloop, Queen of the  
Lunatics, has to say."  
  
Spike met her gaze steadily. "Doesn't matter if you  
believe it or not. It's true."  
  
The Slayer swallowed, once. Hard. "Even...even if it was  
true...then he must have had a good reason..."  
  
"So it's all right if bad things happen, so long as there's  
a good reason? God, the Spanish Inquisition would have  
loved you, Slayer."  
  
She shook her head fiercely. "Stop it! You're confusing  
things..."  
  
"Well, let's make it all crystal clear then. Yes, I killed  
people. For a long time. I bloody enjoyed it and I was  
good at it. But not as good as Angelus. Yeah, I did a bit  
of torture in my day but for the most part, I just killed  
them. Angelus, though, he played with them first. You saw  
what he did to Dru. Hell, you've been on the receiving end  
of a little Angelus torment yourself. You know what he was  
capable of."  
  
"Angelus. Not Angel. Angel has a soul, a conscience."   
Buffy's voice was stronger now, the momentary doubt he had  
sensed in it before gone now. "Angel knows the difference  
between good and evil. You don't."  
  
"I know. I just never cared. 'Til now. 'Til you."  
  
"That's not true! Everything you're doing, everything you  
think is good, you're just doing because you want to get  
into my pants!"  
  
"Well, yeah!" He shot her a look. "But does it really  
matter why I'm doing it? Why I'm changing? So long as I  
change?"  
  
"Yes it matters! You're...you're like Quasimodo. You have  
no moral compass, you're just..."  
  
Spike frowned. Where the hell did that come from?   
  
"Quasimodo? OK, one -- I look nothing like him, and two   
-- what's your problem with him anyway? He gave his life  
to save the woman he loved. And you object to this  
because...?"  
  
"Because everything he did, he did expecting to get  
something in return."  
  
"Right. So the dying to save her was completely selfish  
and he expected...uh, what exactly? Look, did you even  
read the book, Summers?"  
  
The Slayer shifted, looking away briefly. "Of course  
I...that doesn't matter! What matters is that...that Angel  
felt remorse when he got his soul back and he's been trying  
to make up for what he did ever since."  
  
"Right. So the fire-setting, lawyer-killing thing just  
means he's taking the scenic route along the road to  
redemption? You're such a hypocrite, Summers. You're  
willing to give him the benefit of the doubt but you won't   
give me even the smallest crumb. Even though I'm the one  
who's saved you how many times, who's helped you out  
and..."  
  
"For money," she said accusingly.  
  
"Sure," Spike said agreeably. "To start with."  
  
"And to impress me. And because that chip doesn't give you  
any choice."  
  
Another drag on the cigarette. "Fair enough. Call it an  
artificial soul then, if you like. Same result. If the  
end is good, why quibble about the means?"  
  
"Because if you ever got the chip out, you'd go right back  
to your old ways. Same old evil Spike."  
  
"Maybe. Maybe not. You don't know that. Hell, *I* don't  
even know what I'd do. And we're not gonna find out until  
I get this bleeding thing out of my head. But you know  
what, Slayer? If it was anyone else you'd be open to the  
possibility that this change just might be real.   
Permanent, even."  
  
Buffy's fists tightened again. "It isn't real. You're a  
demon. It's not in your nature."  
  
"So Anyanka is what...just biding her time?"  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Anya. Vengeance demon. Remember her? You lot don't seem  
to have a problem with her, even though she's got about 900  
years on me when it comes to the wreaking havoc category.   
And she doesn't show a hell of a lot of remorse, does she?   
What, did you think her thousand years of vengeance  
involved nothing worse than a few boils on blokes'  
naughtier bits? Hey, I've met some vengeance demons.   
Believe me, baby, they leave us vampires in the shade.   
We're small potatoes, compared to them."  
  
"I..."  
  
He took advantage of her momentary confusion. "What's the  
matter? Cat got your tongue, Slayer? So, let's just  
recap, shall we? Angel, the same Angel who's currently  
having fun playing with matches and taking Shakespeare way  
too seriously..."  
  
"Shakespeare?"  
  
"'Kill all the lawyers'. Anyway, Angel has a 'Get Out of  
Buffy's Bad Books Free' card because he's got a soul and  
feels all sad and droopy -- at least some of the time --  
about the nasty things he's done. Meanwhile, Anya gets to  
be one of the Scoobies because...why? Because she's all  
cute and harmless now? Well, in case you haven't been  
paying attention, I'm pretty harmless too. Maybe I'm just  
being thick, but I really don't see the difference."  
  
Buffy glared at him. "Anya is mortal now. She has a  
soul."  
  
"Back to that, are we? OK. We've already agreed that  
having a soul doesn't necessarily make you good..."  
  
"Yes, but not having a soul definitely makes you bad!"  
  
"And I can't try to be more than I am? I get no shot at  
redemption, no second chance...?" Spike carefully kept his  
voice flat, calm. Reasonable.  
  
Buffy sighed, some of her anger seeming to melt away.   
  
"But you don't want redemption," she said softly. "Not  
really. You're not sorry for anything you've done, are you  
Spike? You're only behaving differently because you think  
you're in love with me, and because of that chip. But deep  
down, you don't feel any remorse, no real interest in  
redemption. Come on. Admit it."  
  
Spike paused, a flicker of annoyance going through him.   
This conversation wasn't going the way he had planned. He  
had thought he would be countering all her arguments.   
Instead, it was the other way round. And this one...there  
wasn't a lot he could say in response, was there? Except  
maybe the truth. Even though it wasn't going to help him.   
Sod it. The vampire sighed then dropped the cigarette,  
grinding it to ash beneath his foot.  
  
"You're right," he said at last, meeting her gaze. "I  
don't stay up days thinking about all the people I've  
killed, wishing things were different. I'm not sorry and I  
don't care."  
  
Was that sadness in her eyes? A faint current of...what?   
Regret?...in her voice?  
  
"And that's why I could never love you," the Slayer replied  
quietly. That's why I can't even give you the crumb you  
asked for. Because there can never be anything between us.   
Not ever."  
  
Spike shifted uncomfortably. "What if I did care?   
Hypothetically speaking, that is?"   
  
She bit her lip. "I...I don't know. Maybe. Who knows?   
But it's never going to happen so what's the point in even  
thinking about it?"  
  
"But what if I keep on the way I am? What if I hang around  
you lot long enough and all your bloody morals and ethics  
start rubbing off on me? Or this chip finally drives me  
round the bleeding bend and I really do start to care?"  
  
There was a long silence, as if she were weighing her  
response. If he had needed to breathe, Spike would have  
been holding his breath.  
  
Finally, Buffy spoke. "Then...then maybe that day we'll  
talk. Maybe that day I would even think about it. But  
face it, Spike, it's just not going to happen. Because I  
think...I think I just figured out what a soul is for."  
  
He laughed again, the bitterness back in his voice. "To  
make you feel guilty. Nice."  
  
"No. To make you care. To feel for other people. Not  
just the people you love or know. But the nameless people  
you pass on the street, the people you've never seen before  
and will never see again. It's knowing that they have  
lives, hopes, dreams, sorrows, and that they're just as  
important as you are. Maybe more. To know that they're  
not just lunch and that killing them is wrong. Not because  
that chip won't let you, or because you know I wouldn't  
like it. But because it's wrong."  
  
Spike's hands went to his pocket, curling around another  
cigarette, but he didn't bother to light it. Instead, he  
stared back at her through the darkness, frustration and  
unhappiness warring within him.  
  
"So that's it then? Lesson over?"  
  
Buffy nodded. "Yeah. You ever start feeling sorry, Spike,  
maybe then...then we'll talk. Until then..."  
  
"I know. 'Stay out of my life, get off the planet, blah-  
bloody-blah.'"  
  
She gave him a long, slow look then turned and began to  
walk away, not looking back. "Goodbye."  
  
"Slayer...?"  
  
She paused briefly. "What?"  
  
"I...I don't know if that's ever going to happen. Right  
now, I'd say there's not a chance in hell. But what were  
the odds I'd fall in love with the Slayer in the first  
place? Who'd have thought I'd be helping people rather  
than eating them. Me. Spike. William the Bloody. All I  
know is...things change."  
  
"Yeah," she said emotionlessly to the empty air in front of  
her. "But do you?"  
  
"I don't know. Maybe."  
  
"Goodbye, Spike."  
  
"See you around, Slayer."  
  
THE END 


End file.
